


Pranks that backfired because blue-bloods are scary

by LeftoverFT



Category: Homestuck, I guess - Fandom
Genre: Gen, It's an oc fic, OCs - Freeform, Ugh, dont read this crap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:49:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 9,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftoverFT/pseuds/LeftoverFT
Summary: Oc fic, probs will move this to tumblr. Pranks are hardCuddling is fun Just about of fic dabbles things for ocs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eribabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eribabe/gifts).



"Rhyima! Is the cam ready yet? Or like, is it? No? Yea?"

"It's almost ready! Shush, I'm about to start recording! Okay, one, two, three-!"

"Hah, my name is Trolen, and I am about to prank Praova. I'm gonna, yea, and then it'll be great, he'll be totally sur-surprised!" Trolen excited jumped in front of the camera and nodded to Rhyima, heading towards the door and out into the hall.

Rhyima giggled and followed along, not mentioning that messing with Praova like this would most certainly get Trolen in trouble.

Trolen sneaked into the bathroom, Rhyima peaking in with the camera.

"I'm gonna, hmm, switch out the fancy shampoo Praova uses, with red hair dye! Hehe, he'll look awesome." Trolen quickly switched them out, pausing a bit in between movements to giggle.

He then skipped out of the bathroom, running back into his room, Rhyima following behind. He peaked his head back out and smiled, watching Praova walk into the bathroom.

"Great! Right on time! Now we just wait."

After almost thirty minutes, Praova reemerged, face drawn into a tight frown. His hair was a deep, mixed shade of red and purple.

"Trolen. Come here."

Trolens giggles stop, and he totters out in front of Praova, rubbing his arm.

"Tell me what you did today."

"I did an awesome prank...?"

Rhyima bit her lip, gulping.

"Did you? All I see is a mess."

"..not a mess, it looks good."

"Trolen, you are aware that my hair is now dyed, right? You fucked up my hair, Trolen, you ruined it." Praova sighed loudly, staring down at the other troll.

"No I didn't! It's better like this! It looks good!" Trolen put his hands on his hips and gnawed on his lip, only a little worried.

"Dish duty for the next week."

"What?! No, I didn't do anything wrong."

Rhyima snickered a little, glad she wasn't the one in trouble.

"Trolen, do you want me to take away your bird documentary too?"

"No!"

"Then you have dish duty. Now go do it, we need some clean pots for dinner tonight." Praova finished, watching Trolen stomp off, arms crossed grumpily.

"I hate this family! I'm running away!"

"Only after you're done with your dishes!" Praova called back.

Rhyima giggled and cut off the camera, setting it away and walking over to Praova.

"I like the new hair, looks great," she chuckled to herself and smiled widely.

Praova rolled his eyes and headed to his room, listening to Trolen clink around in the kitchen.


	2. Motherfucking cuddles and stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ehyo decided to just put this as a second chapter and make this story a ton of one shot things and crap! 
> 
> Wooooooooooooo,lets do this

Trolen laid horizontally across Praova, making small, bubbly noises. Praova gently rubbed the other trolls horn beds, watching Troll CSI, in which a young group of trolls find themselves in pressing situations in which they must solve strange cases while simultaneously finding love.

Trolen let out some chirp like noises and played with the blankets surrounding him and Praova. He bit and tore one, and peaked to see if Praova had noticed. Seeing that he hadn't, he continued to chew on the blanket, ripping it in precise ways.

After having chewed at the blanket for thirty minutes or so, he felt a painful swat on the back of his head.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Don't mess up my blankets," Praova scolded.

Trolen hissed in discomfort, curling up in a tight ball, facing away from Praova. "You didn't have to hit me so hard," he said glumly.

Praova sighed, rubbing the spot where he had slapped Trolen's head in an apologetic manner. "Sorry."

"Now that the blanket, that one, the one I tore, not the one beside it, is messed up, well messed up for you, perfect for me, that's what I wanted, can I use it?" Trolen asked, turning over to face Praova.

Praova pretended to think about it before nodding. "Okay, no messes though."

Trolen grinned and hugged his friend, mainly his midsection since he didn't want to sit up.

"Yes! I'm gonna make a nest! You're invited in, we can have sleepovers, and- and! You can paint my nails! And we can play cops and robbers."

"All in that little nest?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, I call being the cop."


	3. It's for him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaa, sadstuck. But with a good ending.  
> ;-)

"Pava! Please!" Trolen pleaded, pouting up at the other.

"Trolen, no, I'm busy. Go away," Praova sighed, turning up the volume on his T.V.

"Praova! Just a small kiss, a quick one?"

"No! Now, shush."

Trolen slumped out of the room, frowning. He put on his shoes, struggling to tie them before giving up and putting on his rain boots.

He walked down to Rhyima's house, weaving through the people on the streets. When he arrived, he knocked three times, standing back as he waited.

"Rhyima! Hurry up, please!" He called out.

The door soon opened, revealing an unamused Rhyima.

"Yea?"

"I wanna stay here." Trolen hurried in when Rhyima scooted out of the way and headed to the couch.

"So what's up?"

"Praova won't kiss me, and I don't know why," Trolen grumbled, stretching out.

Rhyima sat next to him and laughed. "Maybe it's cause you're ugly?"

Trolen frowned, listening to Rhyima continue to giggle at her own joke.

"Whatever, you're no help."

The two argued a bit more before moving on to other activities. Trolen thought of what she said the whole time.

On his way home, he thought of what to do. "Pava won't kiss me cause I'm ugly. So I need to become pretty. How?"

He stepped inside, kicking off his boots and making his way to Praova's room. "Hey, can we go on a date tonight?"

"No, I need to finish this season of Troll CSI," Praova mumbled back, watching the show carefully.

"Okay, sorry for interrupting," he slipped back out of the room, quietly walking to his own room.

He stared into his mirror, squinting at himself.

"I'm ugly."

He thought of how Praova and Rhyima look, and how they always look nice, sharp, even beautiful some days.

"They don't wear makeup like I do, so maybe Praova thinks my makeup is ugly. So ugly he doesn't want to have to lean in closer to me," and with that, Trolen rubbed the makeup off of his face, using baby wipes to get rid of everything.

Once done, he looked himself over again. "Praova and Rhyima never wear dresses either," he frowned, "so no more dresses. They also don't have curly hair, like mine, and there's isn't so long."

He pulled at his hair, wincing. "I need a hair cut." He snuck back out of his room, peering into Praova's and seeing that he was still engrossed in his show. He left again, heading towards the closest hair parlor.

He waited his turn, trying not to think too much about losing his hair. "It's for Praova. He'll like me more if I'm prettier." His chest tightened as he sat down in his chair, the hair stylist asking him what he wanted done.

"Cut my hair short, so it can't curl over itself anymore."

"That'll be quite a lot off, you sure."

Trolen gulped, holding back tears, and nodded. "I'm sure."

When he was done, he took in how he looked, seeing how short his hair was, and knowing he couldn't play with it or put it in a ponytail anymore.

He thanked the lady who had done his hair and paid at the counter, heading back to his house.

  
He quietly shut the door behind him and went to his room, not even looking into Praova's.

He breathed heavily, holding back more tears as he looked into his mirror. "There. Better. N-next, Rhyima and Praova are b-both smart. I'm not, and P-Praova can't find that attractive. I-I need to be smarter."

He pulled out a few books, sitting on the floor as he read them. His vision was blurry as he read, a few tears rolling down his cheeks and off his chin, splashing against the pages below.

He sniffled and read on, learning about some history he couldn't care less about. He jumped when he heard someone knock on his door. He shoved the book off to the side and wiped of his face.

"Y-yes?!"

"Hey, so my show is acting stupid, and the main character didn't get with who I ship her with, so I'm upset and want to do something. Wanna go on that date you were talking about?" Praova asked, resting his head on the door.

"Yea, give me one sec to get r-ready!" Trolen called back.

"Okay, I'll go get ready. We can leave in a bit," and with that, Praova walked away.

Trolen rubbed at his eyes again and got up, hurrying to his closet. "Rhyima never shows much skin, so I'll wear pants and a long shirt."

When he was done dressing, he went to his mirror. His eyes were a little puffy and his skin was a little blotchy, but he wasn't going to do anything about it. Praova didn't like makeup.

He looked at his hair again, feeling his stomach drop. He felt so ugly.

"It's for Praova, not me." He reminded himself.

He bit at his lips again, his mouth pulled into a tight frown, his chest aching terribly. When he was done looking himself over, he headed to the living room, seeing Praova was waiting for him, staring at his phone.

"No dress," Praova looked up at him and his eyes went wide. He put his phone down and stood up, looking Trolen over.

"Holy sh- what did, where did you, why'd you cut your hair?" Praova decided on, deciding to bring up the lack of makeup next.

Trolen took a deep breath to steady himself. "I- I wanted to be prettier, for you."

Praova walked over to him, his arms out, looking confused.

"Prettier?"

"I asked Rhyima why you wouldn't want to kiss me, a-and she said it w-was because I'm u-ugly," Trolen could hear his voice crack, and he sniffled, trying to stand up straighter.

By now, Praova was in front of him, hands on Trolen's shoulders. "Your hair, it's only, maybe an inch long. Trolen, you loved your long hair, you liked it being curly and hard to fix."

Trolen licked his lips and nodded, "yea, b-but curls aren't pretty, so I cut it short."

Praova gave him a stern but sincere look. "Trolen, there was-is nothing wrong with you. I loved your hair, I loved your makeup, I even loved your silly dresses and skirts. You were already beautiful."

Trolen stopped holding back and started to cry, holding onto Praova. "I-I wasn't though!"

Praova pulled him into a hug, leaning down to embrace his smaller friend. "You were, I wouldn't lie to you."

Trolen hugged back just as tight, sniffling against Praova's neck. "Really?"

"Really. Now, why don't you go pick out something cute to wear, put on some of that new makeup you bought, and let's go out and eat, maybe even watch a movie. And no more haircuts for awhile, we gotta let your hair grow out." Praova told him, giving the small troll one last squeeze.

Trolen nodded and let Praova go, heading to his room to change. "Thanks, Pava." He decided not to tell him about the extra reading he had been doing, feeling a little better, and hoping the day would improve once they went on their date.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lol, dildos are funny, right?

Trolen set up his computer, balancing it on his legs as he settle onto his bed. He clacked his fingers against the keyboard as he waited for his call.

He checked in his mirror to make sure his hair looked okay and readjusted his shirt, and reapplied his lipstick.

Just as he was finishing, his computer went off, a box popping up.

"Incoming Video Call," it read.

He quickly clicked the "accept" button and smiled when a box revealing Praova appeared.

"Heey!" He greeted, waving to him.

"Hey, Trolen. What have you been up to?" Praova waved back, smiling into the camera.

"Oh, the usual. Chasing squirrels, hating the girls at my school, contemplating world domination. The usual." He played with his hair as he spoke, recalling a girl in his maths class who had decided to pick a fight with him about how boys weren't supposed to wear makeup. It was safe to say that the girl left the fight with a black eye and Trolen left with a bruised mind-scape. It's not fun to be constantly reminded that he was weird and different.

"Ah. I'm in your plans right? I'm your king when you take over the world?" Praova laughed, watching Trolen nod and shift, making the camera wobble a bit.

"You'll be the emperor! I'll be the lovely Emperor number two! You can do all the hard work, while I get to do fun things, like help people and make friends." He smiled and thought of all he could do as an emperor. All he had to do was get rid of the current empress. Simple enough.

"Haha, okay, fair enough. You are the one with the plan."

"Yep! So what have you been doing?" Trolen asked, watching Praova sigh.

"I'm still training. I have to be an amazing cop some day, so I need a perfect shot."

Trolen stuck his tongue out. "Bleh. Remember to take breaks and have some fun too."

"This is my fun," Praova smiled.

"Talking to me is pretty fun, huh?" Trolen giggled and rocked back and forth, smiling.

"Yep. I also got your birthday present today, I'll be wrapping it and shipping it tonight," Praova watched Trolen perk up and clap.

"Really? What did you get me?" He asked excitedly.

"Okay, so you know the gift I got you last year?"

Trolen felt his face heat up a bit when he thought of the large gift he had received. It's hard to forget when your best friend (and flushcrush) sends you a dildo. He nodded and said, "yea," in a small, slightly worried, voice.

"Okay, so you say you can't use it because it's too big, so, I took it upon myself to buy you a new one. This one is pretty small, so I'm sure you'll be okay. Maybe once you get the hang of it, you can send a video or something." Praova stated in a matter-of-fact way.

"U-um. Yea, but like, I-I can't exactly." He trailed off and bit at his lips.

"Hm, what?"

"Size isn't the only problem! I-it's still a dildo, and those things are scary!" Trolen told him, knowing he probably shouldn't raise his voice so loudly, but not actually caring much.

"What's so scary?" Praova asked, smirking into the camera. Trolen would probably say something that would be so far off that Praova wouldn't be able to explain how impossible it was in one sitting.

This time Trolen leaned in real close to his laptop and whispered, "what if... What if, it gets stuck?"

Praova couldn't hold back his laughter, he leaned back and chuckled, watching Trolen flush a darker green.

"Pava! Don't laugh! I'm seriously afraid!" He whined out the last part. "It's not my fault, I didn't ask for these types of gifts. I don't know why you're even givin them to me!"

Praova calmed down and smiled. "Okay, okay. I get it. You'll just have to wait until we can meet up in person to use it. That way if it does get stuck, I'm there to help you out."

"Yea, sure. Y-you're just a perv cop who is weird and dumb." Trolen muttered, crossing his arms.

"I also got you a dress," Praova tried, smirking again.

Trolen instantly sat up straighter, flashing Praova a wide smile. "Really?! Oh my gods, you're the best!"

"I know."

Their video chat went as usual after that, and Trolen was left with thoughts of what to do with his latest gifts.


	5. Wowza, Rhyima sure does love life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha, poor Rhyima. Men are worthless ((not really tho, she loves her pals, even if they're big dummies))

"Maybe you should actually tell him instead of repeatedly sending him sex toys."

Praova hummed in contemplation. "Yea, but what if he doesn't like me back?"

"It'd still be better than scaring the poor troll with your perverted antics," Rhyima sighed, balancing her laptop on one hand. She was tired of hearing these two ramble on about each other. She had just gotten off a call with Trolan, who was talking about how he didn't know what to do with the gifts Praova had been giving him.

Praova's nose scrunched up, "I told him I'd teach him how to use them. I thought that was like, enough for him to realize that I liked him."

"He's probably terrified of you, worried that you'll jam one up his-"

"Wait, is he afraid of me?"

"Hmm, Bro-code says I'm not allowed to tell you too much information, but I will tell you that he isn't afraid of you, at all. Well maybe a little, he is kinda tiny and you are kinda tall with high-blood strength." Rhyima tried to think of any times Trolen had mentioned his fears. She didn't always listen to the little guy, he was confusing and stuttered over his words enough that it was hard to follow what the point of his story even was.

"Bro-code? Does he talk about me a lot? Has he told you about who he feels red for?" Praova sat up a bit straighter and waited for his answer.

Rhyima shook her head no. "I can't tell you! That's the point of Bro-code."

"You aren't even his bro!"

"Doesn't matter, I made a promise. I'll tell you this, tell him how you feel, stop beating around the bush."

Praova groaned. "I'll tell him when we meet up."

"Who knows how long we have to wait until then," Rhyima bit at her lip.

"Yea, I just want to wait. It's not like he's going anywhere."

"Yea, unless he does, like, disappear. I wouldn't put it past him," Rhyima chuckled.

"Don't put these ideas in my head, I'll start worrying too much."

"Okay okay, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Yea, bye Rhyima, thanks for the chat. It helped."

"No problem," she waved bye and cut off the video chat, laying back with a sigh. Those two were so annoying about their feelings. These boys would be the death of her.


	6. Lol, Ya Played Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should've stopped watching Troll Bones. Now you have an expensive date, and you revealed vital info about your crush.

"Heeeey," Trolen whined, gently biting at Praova's fingers.

"What?" Praova replied, engrossed in some new series that had recently come out.

"Pay attention," Trolen shifted, feeling Praova's chest against his back.

"I am."

Trolen huffed and checked his phone. Rhyima wouldn't talk to him cause she was taking a nap, and he was starting to get bored of the show Praova had turned on. Why didn't they just punch the bad guy? Instead they're running around like idiots.

Trolen shifted grumpily, dropping Praova's hand. "Okay, then, am I beautiful?"

Praova nodded, not looking away from the television.

"Am I funny?"

This time he got a mumbled, "yea."

He paused, pulling out his phone and opening his voice memos. He hit the start button and then asked, "will you take me on an expensive date after this?"

He laughed happily, asking, "and you're super flushed for me right? The most beautiful of reds?"

"Yea yea, sure." Praova brushed him off, glaring and trying to regain his focus on the show. The foreshadowing was about to kill him. He needed to know who the killer was.

Trolen got up, happily fluttering to his room, waving goodbye. "Okay! I'll get ready for our date! I hope you got paid this week!"

That was enough to knock Praova out of his stupor, and he quickly got up. "Wait, paid? What date? Trolen, what date?!" He hurried after the giggling mid-blood, worried for whatever he had signed up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to stop


	7. Haha, troll Waffle House™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehhhhh, this is from my one (lame) idea about their first time being a huge fail
> 
>  
> 
> I gotta change the rating now :-/

"Okay, so all I have to do is sit down, right?" Trolen shakily stood on the bed above Praova. He stared down at the other and gulped.

"Yep, just sit down," Praova coaxed him gently, his bulge was getting kinda cold. He'd never understand why Trolen woke him up at two in the morning, saying he wanted to "perform the sex" with him, but here he was. Laying back as the nervous green-blood stood above him, trying to determine what would be the best way of going about this.

"I just sit on your dong?" Trolen asked, peaking down at Praova's lower body before snapping his head back up. He couldn't do this, look at that thing, this is too scary, he's gonna die, he's too small for this.

"Yep, sit down on it, and everything will be in place," Praova tried not to chuckle, he knew Trolen was a bit spooked from new things, but the troll looked like he was gonna cry. Which didn't really say much, now that Praova thought about it.

"Okay, I can do it. I got this. I'm good," Trolen gently lowered himself, sitting down on Praova's hips. "Okay, just gotta-" he reached a hand under himself and looked for Praova's bulge. "What? Where is it? I- it was just here!"

"Trolen, lean back a little."

Trolen took his advice, and saw a smudge of blue peaking out from behind him. "Oh! There you are. O-okay, ready Praova? I am, t-totally ready. More ready than ready, excessively r-ready?"

"Where did you learn the word excessively? Actually, you can tell me later. Yea, I'm ready." Praova doubted this would last long. Sure he'd been hoping when he was woken up at two a.m he'd be getting laid, but then he remembered that Trolen had no idea what he was doing. That's fine, at least he's getting some entertainment out of it.

Praova stayed stock still as Trolen worked his way onto his bulge, knowing that any movement would stop the other troll dead in his tracks.

Once fully seated on Praova, Trolen took in a deep breath. "Okay, all done, this is good, step one complete. A-all is well. This feels really weird. How do you feel?"

Praova shrugged, "pretty good, actually." His bulge wasn't cold anymore, and hey, his husband was currently seated on said bulge, what more could he want? He let his hands rest gently on Trolen's hips, glad that they even made it this far.

He let himself relax, seeing Trolen give a few curious movements. Praova looked at where green and blue met on their laps, and chuckled to himself. It almost looked teal, he thought to himself.

Trolen sat up a bit for a second, poking at the base of Praova's bulge. He laughed when Praova sharply inhaled, but squeaked when he felt the bulge move.

"What was that?!"

"Calm down, it was just my-"

"Oh my god, it moves?! Nope! No, no, no! I can't do it! I thought it stayed still! You said all I had to do was sit down and then it'd all be good, you liar!" Trolen practically screamed when his bulge shifted again, jumping up from Praova's lap hurriedly, falling backwards onto the bed.

"RIDES OVER! I can't- t-this is not something I can do!" Trolen threw some covers around himself and hid under them.

Praova sighed slowly, all good things must come to an end. He sat up and moved towards the shaking bundle, frowning. It sucked to see the little go so scared and upset. He pulled the troll and pile of blankets into his arms, and worked his way to the bathroom.

He set the upset troll down on the toilet and started up a bath. He willed his bulge away, thinking about old ladies and that ugly dude at Troll Waffle House™. When the bath tub was filled, he pulled away Trolen's blankets, disregarding his upset whimpers and his attempts at biting Praova's fingers. He gently set him in the tub, eyeing the tear stains on his face.

He sat in it behind him and relaxed in the hot water. Trolen was still tense, so he pulled him backwards so he lay back.

"Have you never seen your own bulge before?" He laughed a little.

"No, my b-bulge is shy." Trolen wiped at his face and got the tear streaks off his face, sniffling.

"Okay, sorry for no warning, I'll be sure to inform you of how it all works next time," Praova let his head loll back, watching Trolen clean himself up.

"I don't wanna bath." Trolen muttered.

"Yea, well we're all dirty, so you gotta have one. You're almost done anyways," Praova told him.

The smaller troll still looked distressed though, sniffling and licking at his lips every few seconds. Praova sighed and decided to throw him a bone.

"If you finish and your completely clean, we can go out for ice cream."

Trolen perked up and nodded, cleaning himself a little faster. Praova sighed and started to clean himself, hoping that maybe McDonalds or some cheap place would be open. At least Trolen wasn't as upset anymore. All was well, he decided, and they could always try again, after an anatomy lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've done this


	8. Guess who needs to stop breathing but decided to instead write more fanfiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin rip me.  
> Also in like 30 years when they all God tier and shit and realize Trolen could've saved Treven or whatever I put his name as, Trolen is gonna be super pissed at Praova.

_One day Praova decided to be a huge jerk! He ~~wis~~ (*was) so mean! And Trolen hates him. They divorced and Trolen got ~~anew~~ (*a new), better husband! One who doesn't get Rhyima to hack his computer and disable his upside down ~~exclimation~~ (*exclamation) mark button! Then he throws away Trolen's ~~plint~~ (*plant) cactus, cause "it's dead! Look, it's hardly even standing up, it's limp and dead." It was his favorite plant!! Trolen hates Praova so fricken much!_

 

 

  
Trolen shoved his computer to the side and groaned in frustration. Angry tears stung at his eyes and he got up from his bed.

"F-fricken stupid Rhyima and dumb b-butt Praova. Screw 'em both, I don't deserve t-this FRICKEN treatment!" He tossed his shoe at the wall, squawking loudly.

"Trolen, stop throwing stuff!" He heard called to him from the other room. Trolen huffed and started squawking louder.

"I hate Praova! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!" Trolen stomped in his room. How dare Praova go search his room and throw away his pet plant.

He could've saved it, there was still time! Instead though, Praova threw it away forever.

Trolen threw himself down onto the floor, sitting in a heap on top of some blankets he had tossed off his bed. He started to cry, wiping at his eyes and thinking of his plant. He had named the little guy Treven, and he had had Treven for two years now.

He curled further against the blankets when he heard his door open up. "Go away!" He yelled at the intruder. Couldn't they see that he was trying to cry his feelings away?

"No can do. I got something for you though," a voice he knew said. Praova had been the intruder, Trolen thought with a scowl.

"I don't want it," he mumbled, grumpily cawing under his breath when Praova sat down next to him.

"C'mon, open up those little eyes of yours. Look at what I got you," Praova tried, knowing that trying to force the smaller troll to look up would just end in lots of scratches and more anger.

Trolen huffed again and looked up, seeing a small lavender plant in Praova's arms.

"I know it's not Treven, and I know you love Treven, but his time had come. So I got you a new bff," Praova explained.

Trolen took the gift and rubbed at his wet eyes. "Yea, well it's okay, I guess. It's not as good as Treven, but I guess I can forgive you."

Praova pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back, not minding when the smaller troll hugged him and smeared drying tears on his shirt.

 


	9. Makeup and stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gays are gay and there is also a past gay who is gay with gay #1 and basically this explains why Trolen is so great with makeup. And it's gay

Trolen leaned back, staring at his lips in the mirror as he applied some matte black lipstick. He smacked his lips together, making sure he didn't miss any spaces.

Then he hurried to do his eyeliner, a quick swipe, and he was done. It was almost natural now, it was hard to remember when he first started wearing makeup, but after years of practice, it's become as easy as breathing.

He knows he started when he was only a few sweeps old, before his silly fall and before he threw his glasses away.

He concentrated on his thoughts as he smoothed out his lines, making sure everything was perfect.

He resisted licking his lips, and instead thought to who had taught him how to apply makeup.

"Hmm, was it really him? He was pretty s-sweet. Ugh, I can't believe time is passing, it needs to stop! S-screw you time!" Trolen leaned towards his mirror and growled under his breath, how dare time ignore his pleas and continue on?

He tried to think of what led up to it.

_"You''ve been looking at that magazine for a while now. Do you like her makeup?" The teal blood asked, sitting back on his bed._

_Trolen adjusted his glasses, shoving the magazine away. "No, it's fine, I suppose. I mean, it's okay! I'm not-"_

_The other sat up with a wide smile. "Guess what?"_

_Trolen shrugged, "Hm?"_

_"I know how to do it! The makeup, my sister makes me do her makeup, I can do yours? If you want, you don't have to, I just thought that that's why you always look at that magazine. We don't have to," he trailed off, and looked around his room, biting his lip._

_"No, I'd like that. That'd be really nice," Trolen watched the other troll nod happily and jump up, heading out of the room._

_"Halfie? Where are you going?" He was about to get up and head after him when the high-blood came back in, carrying two items._

_"Lipstick and eyeliner, like the girl in the magazine," the teal blood smiled and pulled up a chair in front of Trolen's, uncapping the lipstick._

_"Ready?"_

_"Never been more ready," Trolen smiled, getting a chuckle from his boyfriend._

_He felt the stick touch his skin, and he thought it'd be different, waxy and gross, but he couldn't feel it too much. It was more of a pressure than anything else. He'd have to document it in one of his journals once he made it back to his house._

_When Halfie was done with the lipstick, he recapped it and grabbed the eyeliner. Trolen sucked in a breath and removed his glasses. He hated stuff being around his eyes, it always made him want to flinch away._

_"Tell me if I need to stop," the other said, holding his hand. Trolen nodded and raised his chin, feeling the eyeliner get rubbed over his eyelid._

_He resisted the urge to flinch away, trusting the other to not poke his eye out. When he felt Halfie finish both of his eyes, he opened them, seeing his boyfriend smiling at him brightly._

_He peered into the mirror across from them, and gasped. He looked just like all the pretty women from the magazine. It was a bit blurry, his glasses still off, but he could tell that it was a nice job._

_He hugged his boyfriend and thanked him. Not being able to take his eyes off of his reflection. He looked pretty, and he even felt pretty. It was nice._

_"You look really good, I like it! We should do your makeup more often, I'll teach you how to do it on your own! It'll be great!" Halfie smiled down at him, and Trolen couldn't resist leaning up to kiss him on his noes._

_"Thank you, you're the best!"_

Trolen hummed in thought, putting away his makeup and heading out of his house. He waited on the porch a bit, seeing a familiar figure approach.

"Pava! You're here! And on time, miracles are real!" He laughed and Praova snorted, holding Trolen's hand as he headed towards wherever their latest date was going to be.

"What have you been doing?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over Trolen's knuckles.

"Ah, j-just thinking."

"Whoa, what about?" Trolen stuck his tongue out at him and hummed a small, broken tune.

"My makeup!"

"It looks as beautiful as ever, just like the one wearing the makeup."

"What a flatterer, but I'm still gonna get the most expensive thing on the menu at the restaurant, and all the compliments in the world can't stop me!" Trolen chimed.

"Shit, I thought it'd work."

"Naughty word, on our way home, you gotta buy me a new pillow! A fluffy one."

Praova groaned, and Trolen leaned closer to him, giggling at his matesprits troubled look.

"You better be glad I love you," Praova teased.

"Mhm, I-I am! You're the best!" He smiled, happy to be by the blue bloods side.


	10. Hah, MM ruined my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no way Trolen wouldn't play Mystic Messenger, he can't resist their beauty.

Trolen screamed, throwing his phone at the furthest wall. He laid back against the warm pile of soft items that made up his bed, wiping at his eyes.

He heard someone run into his room, and he raised his arms, wanting a hug. Luckily it had been his husband who came in and not Rhyima. If it had been Rhyima, he would more than likely be getting screamed at for throwing precious technology against the wall.

"Trolen, babe? You okay?" Praova wrapped him in a tight hug and leaned back against the bed. Trolen curled up further against his chest and let out a few sad sniffles.

"No. My h-heart hurts! My head does too, but mainly my heart," he frowned and bit his lip.

Praova rubbed little circles on Trolen's chest, over where his heart was, and quietly asked, "and why is that? I thought you were playing your new game? The one you made me spend my paycheck on so you could get some sort of calling card?"

"I- I was! But then I thought it was going to be the way it should be- but i-it wasn't! They played us, they played me! It hurts! I just want them to be happy," Trolen huffed and grabbed at Praova's shirt.

"Why are the characters unhappy?"

"Fuckin Rika, loser, old, ugly, whack job looking jerk face decided! Why not! She hurt him, and she hurt Yoosung and lied and was a fake, two-faced bi-itch!" Trolen leaned into Praova's hand when the other reached down to run his hands through Trolen's hair.

"You're pretty upset, huh?"

"Yea… I-I wanna go to bed," he curled in on himself and patted the spot next to Praova, "you sleep here?"

"Mhm, I'll sleep in here," Praova fell back, keeping Trolen in his arms.

"Love you, more than I love the characters in the game!" Trolen told him, kissing his cheek.

"Yea, well I like you more than I like Troll CSI!"

Trolen giggled and plopped his head down onto Praova's chest, heading off to snoozeville.


	11. Badda bing badda boom, naked cuddles yo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young lime-blood doesn't consent, but strong blue-blood continues on anyways.
> 
> ((It's actually hella cute, I'm sorry))

It wasn't that Trolen didn't enjoy cuddling, and it definitely wasn't like he didn't enjoy being naked, but the two together was not something he was a fan of.

Naked cuddles were too hot and stuffy, and having someone so close to him during the sacred moments of nudity wasn't fun.

Sadly though, his silly husband just had to enjoy cuddling nude, especially when the weather started to get cold.

He'd always brush off Trolen's complaints with, "it's not like you don't enjoy it." And, "shush, it's cold, you're warm, let me have this."

And who was Trolen to deny his lovely husband of the one thing he could provide him with?

Trolen was currently in such a situation, Praova's arms holding him in place as the bird lover grumbled under his breath.

"It's hot! I wanna go to my room," he whined.

"You're hot, now quiet down, I'm trying to sleep," Praova pulled Trolen closer to him, his chest pressed against the smaller trolls back. He could hear the other making grumpy caw like noises under his breath, and tried to soothe him by placing small kisses over his neck.

Trolen's neck quickly scrunched up, trying to get away, an angry squawk erupting from him. "Bad, no, it's too late for this! Go to sleep, we can't do that! A-ah crap, freakin goofy blue-blood punk!"

After a few weaker twitches, Trolen turned around to face Praova. He kissed his noes and watched the other troll.

"You need your sleep, go to bed. I'll see you later."

"You're leaving?"

"No, I'm going to sleep, and when I wake up, I'll see you," Trolen told him, blowing air against his cheek.

"Oh, okay. Night, see you later."

"No more kisses. Goodnight," he was about to turn over when Praova stopped him.

"Wait wait, no more kisses?" He asked.

"Nope, no more."

"Not even one?"

"No! No more, not now, it's sleepy time now!" Trolen told him, a look of annoyance on his face. Why couldn't Praova understand this?

Praova hummed, smiling at Trolen. "Okay, but how about one here?" He quickly kissed Trolen's cheek.

"No!"

"Here?" He placed a few kisses under Trolen's ear, listening to the other yell. He continued on, placing kisses over the others cheeks, lips, and anywhere else he could reach.

He ended it with a kiss to the others lips, laying back down and loosening his grip on the other.

"Now look what you've done. We're late to sleep," Trolen turned over and huffed, hugging Praova's arms when they circled around his waist.

"Mhm, all my fault."

Trolen stuck his tongue out, remembered that Praova couldn't see it, and then pulled it back into his mouth. He didn't necessarily like naked cuddles, but he had to admit, he did like sleepy, silly kisses from Praova.


	12. Lmfao how to wack off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the nsfw prompts lol. This is why I'm suicidal ;-)

The first time he ever even attempted masturbation, Trolen ended up cutting his thigh open and needing a bucket to hold the blood.

He was a lot more cautious after that, trimming his nails and asking Praova what the heck he's supposed to do. Praova is the only reason he's doing this in the first place. The blue-blood should take responsibility and tell him how the hell he's suppose to put something in his nook, and then get it back out.

What magic did it take? How is it done? What does Praova mean when he says that nothing bad will happen if he just experiments? Doesn't he understand how the world works? If you struggle to put something in, you're going to have an even harder time getting it out.

It was thoughts like these that made the process take even longer.

But Trolen wasn't a loser, he could handle this. If this is what his crush (and hopefully future matesprit- but that's a different story and different period of time) wants, it's what he gets!

That's what got Trolen into his current position, laid back, staring at his fingers like they were going to kill him. They could, if they get stuck, he'll be stuck in this position forever, and no one will find him, and he'll starve and die. Case closed, his fingers were deadly weapons.

He sighed and kicked his legs out, poking at his thighs.

"Do the thing. If I'm ever gonna be a good husband, I gotta k-know how to do this, but you guys aren't cooperating!" He glared at his lower half, sticking his tongue out.

"Okay, Praova says to think about something hot, it'll make it easier," Trolen ran his hands through his hair and tried to think about something hot.

'Praova is pretty hot. He works out a lot too. I bet he sweats when he works out, gross! Though I sweat too, especially when I'm out in the sun. The sun. The sun! It's the hottest thing I know!' He quickly checked to see if anything had happened, but sadly, his bulge still hadn't revealed itself, and his nook was drier than the Sahara desert.

He groaned and flopped down, thinking about throwing a tantrum. He glanced at his laptop, seeing he didn't have any messages.

Praova would know what to do, but he's busy training to be a cop. And isn't it weird to ask your best bro how to get aroused?

Trolen grumbled angrily and shoved on his underwear, whatever, he'd try again later.


	13. A journal entry yo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trolen as a kid probably had a diary 
> 
> Fuck it, he still has one

May 29, 2132,

I've come to realize something fairly important. Important for me, at least, maybe not so much for others.

I've come to realize that I am alone, and in my aloneness, I am lonely. I've also realized that even with all this loneliness, I still won't get help. What's the point in asking when no one will reply?

It's fine though, I think I'm starting to cope. I no longer get excited when someone starts walking towards me, and I no longer feel rejected when someone ignores me.

Who knows how long it'll be until I've finished welding the material needed for my latest project? It's going to be a sort of claw, to grab things from the tops of trees. You and I both know I'm too short to reach the cabinet, so hopefully this will be of help.

Hopefully.

 

 

August 4, 2132,

I met someone strange today. They were tall and gangly, perched under an old bridge. Their bones creaked when they stood, and their horns were a rusty, cracked mess. They pushed past the old bridge, standing much higher than it, making it seem like an artifact from centuries ago.

I asked why he was so skinny, skinnier than me, and he never replied. He stared down at me, small, sharp, tired eyes, and I think he wants to sleep. I think he wants to sleep and not ever wake up again.

His hair was a frizzy pile that sat upon his shoulders, weighing them down until they sagged. His clothes had obviously seen better days, torn through and faded.

I showed him my project, I got an apple out of a tree for him. He seemed happy, eating it quickly and making a weak, gurgled noise in the back of his throat.

I gave it to him, teaching him how to use it beforehand. He was very grateful, his eyes seemed less tired.

I still can't reach the cabinets.

 


	14. Dirt is p gross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin fuck shit goddamit fuck

"Trolen, no! Bad, spit it out," Praova pulled at Trolen's jaw, trying to get him to spit out what he decided he need to chew on.

"No!" He slurred around the dirt in his mouth. Rhyima had dared him to eat it, and there's no way he was going to back down now.

Praova yanked at his jaw, yelling," Trolen, please! It's gross, dogs pee on the ground, rabbits poop here, people walk on this stuff everyday!" He smacked the back of Trolen's head, making him spit out the dirt.

"Bah! Abuse, weeoo weeoo!" Trolen scrambled away from Praova's hold, crawling back towards his own house.

"No! Trolen, get back here!" He chased after the lime-blood and grabbed him by the sides, hauling him off of the ground.

Trolen wiggled around in his grip before giving in. He flopped back against Praova's chest, looking up at him.

"I didn't mean to eat the dirt," he told him, licking at his lip.

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Cause Rhyima told me to."

"You're ability to only listen to bad ideas is the reason why I have a moirail now," Praova sighed and started to head back towards Trolen's home, keeping the smaller troll a few feet off the ground.

"Ahh! F-frick you rail! Screw you both, I listen to- I am a good idea! I'm gonna cancel your subscription to Gun Monthly™!" Trolen bit at Praova's noes, getting his energy out in little fits.

"Mhm, do that and I'll throw all your Fruit Roll Ups away."

Trolen whined loudly, kissing at Praova's cheeks in apology. He'd do anything to make sure his Fruit Roll Ups weren't tossed out. He relaxed against Praova again, only twitching away a few times, and let himself get carried home.


	15. Screw the monarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Capitalism is 4 cucks ((like me))

October 17, 2***

A list of things I hate:  
1.) Cheaters, in all sense. People who cheat on tests, in life, on their relationship partners. I hate cheaters.

2.) Girls. All of the girls of met have all been terrible, lying, greedy, useless life ruiners.

3.) Dogs and cats. They always bite and scratch me, what jerks. They're scary and chase me around.

4.) People who don't explain.

5.) Liars.

6.) Homewreckers.

7.) incurable diseases.

8.) Being touched too often.

9.) Eating around people.

  
We both know of my luck, which is to say, we both know of my bad luck. Today, somehow, I've run into all of the things I hate. I hope that some day, I can find a way to not have to talk to anyone ever again. People are terrible, humans and trolls are sickening. And animals are scary.


	16. Sin™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Practice makes perfect  
> Ps. Praova is a goof and Trolen is a mess

Trolen huffed out some air through his mouth, biting down on his lip. A disgruntled noise escaped him, and he glared down at his laptop, hand still twisting the vibrater inside of him.

"Freakin j-jerk! I can hardly even see you! This is embarrassing, I'm never doing it again," he choked out, glaring at his boyfriend.

It had taken almost a year for Praova to convince, and teach, Trolen to Skype him and, as Trolen put it, show him parts of himself that even Zeus would blush at. And Zeus was a man whore who's probably seen loads of nooks before, but he'd still blush if he saw his loyal follower right now.

Now that Trolen thought about it, he'd have to pray extra long after this, and maybe even burn a few sacrifices.

"C'mon, don't be like that. You don't even want to look at me, you keep closing your eyes," Praova laughed at the mean look he received from Trolen, and his hand moving along his bulge. He's waited a year for this, he's not stopping now.

"That's because it feels good, a-a-asshole! Ah, shoot," Trolen arched against his bed, hissing as he pushed the vibrater further into himself, his bulge tangling around his wrist.

"Gonna throw all of it away. Laptop, buzz maker that feels good, me, all of it in the trash. All because o-of you!" Trolen rambled, almost kicking his laptop over.

He shook with need, and for once, fully agreed that he was glad he lived alone. He licked at his lips and looked over to what all he could see of Praova.

He had a hand down his pants, probably messing around with his nook, and the other hand was toying with his bulge. His eyes were looking into Trolen's, and the lime-blood quickly laid back down, looking away from Praova's eyes.

"See! You don't even want to look at me," Praova was chuckling now, watching Trolen blush and continue to look at the wall beside him.

"Shush! I-I don't need this from you! Sass is not permitted!"

"Where'd you learn that word?"

"I-I watch T.V too! They say words in those!" He arched back, legs trembling as he groaned under his breath.

"You're always so loud, why're you quiet now?" Praova teased, Trolen looked close to finishing, and he was curious to see what type of face he'd make.

"Ah- quit bein, I can't deal with you and this at the same time!" He hissed and bit down on his lip, a bit too hard as it started to bleed, and sped up his movements.

It wasn't even a minute later when his arm jerked, the rest of his body twitching in a small spasm, as he released on himself, making a small, whiney noise in the back of his throat.

Praova bit his lip and watched his boyfriend sit up, green blood drizzling down from his lip, and hair an absolute disaster. His own movements stilled, and he couldn't help but snort at the dazed look on Trolen's face.

"I see you had a good time, told you you'd provably enjoy it. Next time, we should-"

Trolen slammed his laptop closed and pushed it away from him, looking down at the mess on himself and his bed.

"Hmmm, yes, if Praova was here, he'd be the one cleaning this up. But he's not, so I gotta do it!" He limped out of bed and got to work, ignoring all the "new message" pings his laptop let out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But me back in the kiln


	17. Blood yo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who hurt him?

The first thing he felt was solid, freezing ground, and it reminded him that it was January. Then he felt searing, white hot flame that made you think you were going to faint from pain, but once you thought you'd finally embrace the darkness, you were snapped right back into reality.

The pain was coming from his back, and in his hazy state of pain and tiredness, he couldn't fathom why he was hurting. His back even started to feel wet, heavy drops of lime blood pooling next to him, and when he reached out to touch them, his arm cracked and stayed put.

He was no doctor, but even he could assume that it meant his arm was broken.

He slumped back against the floor, choking out a few gasps of pain. He could hardly see two feet in front of him, dark edges lining his sight. He peered over his shoulder, noticing finally, the large beast that stood over him. Hadn't he been fighting it not too long ago? Remembering things is hard work, not worth all the effort honestly.

He traveled his eyes done to the beasts grip on him, claws dug into skinny, pale wings, ripping them out from the base. Wings so new he hadn't even used them yet.

You know how if you don't notice something, it's not all that bad, but once you see it, it's worse than ever before?

Pain started to lace up his back, raking his core with agony. Screams bubbled out of his throat as he felt the pull and give of tendons in his back. The sound of cracking and snapping as the light wings were ripped from him.

It felt like hours later when it ceased, when his throat closed up, his eyes too wide to close, his body was shaking too harshly for him to get up and find his footing.

His blood coated him, green surrounding him in a pool, his arm throbbed in time with his back. He could smell the wounds, the blood drizzling out quickly as his had been wings where tossed to the side. He had no clue where the enemy went, but he had no desire to find out.

He'd have to either get up, or find the will power to call someone, probably Praova. Maybe he'd be mad? Mad that Trolen lost another fight, lost a piece of himself he had just been bragging about, and set back their progression in the game.

Maybe he wouldn't come, maybe he'd leave Trolen here to bleed to death, and knowing it's a justified death for someone as useless as him, he'd stay dead. Maybe Praova would come get him, and he'd yell at him, and he'd reach over and break Trolen's other arm, just to make him realize what pain really is, and show that he deserved it.

Trolen took in a ragged breath, shallow and deep, reaching into his sylladex to retrieve his phone. His arm felt sore, and the other wouldn't move, but he continued on, typing a quick message followed by his coordinates.

Maybe he could convince Praova not to hate or hurt him.


	18. Hecc EriBabe I did it and wrote another so hah

Sinking his teeth into Praova's arm seemed to be a good enough distraction. As the blue-blood yelped in pain, something he'd likely refute doing, the bird that had been incased in his palm fluttered out.

"Trolen! What the fuck? Now it's loose on the house! It's gonna poop everywhere, including in the ice-cream," Praova rubbed his sore arm, glaring at the shorter troll.

"Yea well, I-I rather have a pet bird that ruins my ice-cream than never see her again!" Trolen argued, following after the fluttering bird.

It wasn't much of a sight, it looked more like a small, winged black cat than a bird, but it was all the same to the lime-blooded troll.

"You don't know if it's a girl," Praova grumbled as he followed after the other.

"I saw her peckin some wood, so she's a girl! Hey, I found h-her!" Trolen sneaked around the living room, his 'prey' sitting on the table, pecking at some magazines. He crawled over the couch, narrowly missing the table when he toppled over and landed on the floor.

The bird squawked, fluttering over the troll and landing on Praova's shoulder. Trolen jumped off the floor, laughing at the blue-blood.

"Haha, she likes you! Now we have to keep her!"

"Ugh, she smells like burnt eggs. Get her off me," Praova leaned his head away as the bird inched closer to his face.

"I can't, she's a-afraid of me. She'll bite me!"

"Birds can't bite, they don't have teeth."

"You better hush before I bite you again. Here, I'll try and grab her, but not cause I wanna help you. Just cause I like her, nothing to do with you," Trolen reached over for the bird slowly, pulling his hands back when it fluttered angrily.

"Bite me again, and I'll call the cops. Hurry up, it's getting too close to my face for me to be comfortable," Praova glared at the little animal, his noes scrunching in distaste.

"You are the cops, dummy. And I'm trying, but she doesn't want me to touch her!" Trolen reached out once more, receiving a hard peck on the finger for his efforts.

"I quit! She's yours now, I'm not gonna touch her. Just admire her from afar and hope that some day our relationship will escalate."

"You're not fucking a bird, Trolen. That's gross. I'm not just gonna sit here and keep her on my shoulder," Praova watched the other troll plop down onto the couch, frowning.

"Well too bad, cause unless you're gonna grab her off your shoulder, she's not leaving. You picked her up earlier, why not now?"

"Earlier she was confused and scared and I had the need to be a hero coursing through my viens. Now she's pliant and pecking at us, and I don't have any will to snatch her and be pecked," he glanced at the creature that had made habitant on his shoulder. It was nestled up against his turtle neck, cooing lowly.

He reached up a gently bonked her head, jerking back when she peered up at him.

"Ooooh, shes gonna bite you!"

"She better not, otherwise she's getting a one way ticket to pound town."

"What happened to not sleeping with the bird?"

"You know what I meant. Scoot over, I wanna watch T.V."

Trolen inched to one side of the couch, giving Praova a confused look. "What about her?"

"As long as she pays rent, I guess she can stay there," Praova grabbed for the remote, rolling his eyes when Trolen started snickering.

"I hope she poops on you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You owe me love


End file.
